At that moment, Tom was sitting on the camp bed in his bitterly cold tent quietly smoking a cigarette and thinking of home and his wife, so he decided to write to her. He always felt closer to Sunday somehow when he put his thoughts on paper, although he had no idea if his letters were getting through. Sometimes it was weeks before he heard from her, then suddenly a glut of letters would arrive all together. He kept every one beneath his pillow and throughout the day he always put the latest one beneath his jacket, close to his heart. Now he lifted his pen and began as his breath floated like lace around him in the freezing cold air.

My dear love,

I pray that this letter finds you and everyone at Treetops safe and well. I have just finished my shift with the horses but wanted to write before I attempt to sleep. It’s always so hard when you have the sounds of the big guns in the distance, although I am getting used to it now. I have not had a good day. Earlier this afternoon I was forced to shoot one of the beautiful horses that had broken its leg in battle. We have little or no medication left for them now, and even straw and hay are becoming scarce so I am just having to do the best I can for them in this bitter cold weather. I don’t mind telling you, as I took the gun to this magnificent animal I was openly crying at such a waste of life. I send them off each morning with a heavy heart knowing that some of them won’t make it back. I feel the same every evening when I watch young men being stretchered off the battlefield with horrific injuries or dead. When will it all end?

I just had a meal in the dining tent. It was some sort of greasy stew with a few over-cooked vegetables floating around in it, but I ate it anyway as I know I have to keep my strength up, but how I long for one of Cissie’s delicious dinners!

A new batch of young men arrived in the camp this afternoon. I haven’t met them as yet but I dare say I will as once again there are empty beds in my tent. Know that you are the first person I think of in the morning and the last one I think of before I close my eyes at night. Pray God we will be together again soon, my dearest love. Until then take care.

Your loving husband,

Tom xxxx

He had barely finished signing his name when a few new faces drifted in and he nodded towards them.

‘All right, lads?’ he greeted them. They reminded him of the incident with the mucky magazine earlier, and he knew his decision not to tell Sunday was right.